


Good Enough

by theycallmespooky



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8505910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theycallmespooky/pseuds/theycallmespooky
Summary: Mulder falls into a depressive episode and is about to make a serious decision.Scully saves him in more ways than one.Mulder saves Scully in a way, too.TW: SUICIDE MENTION





	

Mulder sits on his old, worn leather couch. He stares at the blank television screen, his mind void of any conscious thought. His scruff has become a messy beard, his hair has grown long and looks unkempt, he clothes are unwashed, he looks thinned out, hollow.

Mulder’s depression has hit an all-time low and nothing could pull him out of it. With a family history of depression, he knew from an early age how it affected people and others around them. A few weeks ago he slowly felt it creeping in again, settling in his bones like an old friend. He did what he knew how to do: cut everyone off, and isolate himself as to not bring anyone under with him. He’s been off work for a few days, Scully called him immediately when she got to work the first day and he wasn’t there. He told her he had a stomach bug and will be in tomorrow, abruptly ending the call. She looked at the phone and gave a quick shrug. 

This evening, Mulder manages to move his body into a sitting position. He’s too tired to do anything but lay on the couch and sleep. With the wool blanket draped over his lap, he looks down at his feet and sees that the socks he’s wearing are disheveled and twisted. He looks at his hands in his lap, lying there limp. He lifts up his right hand and feels as if it doesn’t belong to his body. He stares back at the blank television screen and pushes himself up, blanket falling to the floor. On wobbly legs, Mulder shuffles to the table next to the front door where there’s a growing pile of mail. He finds what he needs and shuffles back to the couch, but not before grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen. He holds it up to his face, shakes the bottle and frowns at the small amount that is there.

Sitting on the couch once again and drinking straight from the bottle, Mulder starts to think about things that could have gone differently in his life. He wonders what would have happened if Samantha was never abducted. He wonders where he would be if he didn’t work for the FBI. He wonders where he would have gone to college, if any, instead of Oxford. Would he have still studied psychology? What would have happened if Scully was never assigned to the X-files? Scully…Questions without any answers replay in his mind and taunt him over and over. 

Overcome with emotion, Mulder starts crying. The hot tears start beading from his eyes. He doesn’t feel sad, just empty. He holds his gun in his hand and runs his fingers over the entire surface: familiar, cool to the touch, heavier than usual. 

I just want it all to stop, Mulder thinks to himself over the loud questions filtering through his mind, it could be so easy, he thinks taking another swig from the bottle. Now that he’s drinking, he’s starting to feel what he’s been avoiding. The depression is drowning him and he can’t manage to come up for air. He thought he could hide it, work enough and keep busy so it doesn’t take over his life again. That’s the thing about depression, it comes in waves and sometimes just that one wave will pull you under. 

I’m so tired, he tells himself as he squeezes his tear-stained eyes shut and holds the gun to his right temple, cocks the gun, and hovers his forefinger over the trigger. I’m sorry… he thinks as the warm tears cascade down his cheeks. I’m so sorry…

 

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

 

Mulder throws his eyes open and puts the loaded gun next to him on the couch; he’s infuriated and disappointed, but fully intending to still go through with it.

“Mulder? Open up!” Scully bangs on the door fervently, muffled shouting with a hint of concern. She threatens to kick the door down when she hears Mulder unlatch the lock and he slowly opens the door. 

“Mulder, what the hell is going on?” Scully barks at him, staring past him at his dark and messy apartment. He silently walks back to the couch, “I tried calling and the call wouldn’t go through,” Scully continues and throws her hands on her hips waiting for an answer. Her shoe taps rhythmically as she waits for an answer. 

Mulder sits in silence. Scully looks around his apartment again. There’s bills piled up on the table by the door, the lights are all off and blinds closed tight, it looks as if he’s been sleeping on his couch again, garbage and clothes and papers are strewn everywhere. She’s starting to put together the pieces of what’s been going on with Mulder: isolation, severe depression, loss of appetite, loss of interest in things, over sleeping. She’s been so wrapped up in her recent cases that she was completely overlooking him and his issues. 

“Mulder…” Scully’s voice cracks when she sees his gun on the couch next to him. She walks slowly to the couch, her clicking heels echoing through the apartment. Mulder closes his eyes and Sully notices his cheeks are shiny with tears. She didn’t think he would ever get this bad again. 

Picking up the gun, still warm from his hand and puts the safety on and she places it on the coffee table in front of them; she stares at it, hoping for answers to so many questions she needs them to. She doesn’t want to say anything in case it’s the wrong thing, but she has to say something; the silence is deafening. 

“Mulder…” her voice cracks as she places her soft, warm hand on his thigh, giving it a slight squeeze. 

It didn’t register with Mulder right away that Scully was touching him. It wasn’t an intimate touch, but a comforting one. He knew she didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know either; so, he sits in silence with her for what seems like forever. Mulder sighs and grabs Scully’s small hand and locks their fingers together; he gives her hand a tight squeeze. 

“Mulder…I don’t understand…Please, try to help me understand…” she pleads with him, grabbing both of his hands into hers. She twists herself on the couch so she’s sitting sideways facing him, leg tucked underneath her. Mulder sits there and stares straight ahead. She wants him to look at her, she wants him to know she’s there and cares about him more than he knows. Scully reaches for his chin and tilts his head so he’s looking at her. The flowing tears have stopped and he stares at her with a blank expression. 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be where I’m at now, would I…” his voice is hoarse and barely audible. His eyes divert to the nonexistent space between their touching legs, then to their hands.

“Mulder, please. I want to help you. I’ve told you so many times before that this shouldn’t be something you have to go through alone. You need help, Mulder,” her thumb rubs small soothing circles on his hand. “Tell me what to do. Let me help you.”

“Scully, I’m sorry,” he looks at her again, voice cracking, “I don’t know what else to say,” he drops her hands from his and runs his hands through his hair, now feeling slightly embarrassed that she caught him in the state he’s in. 

“Don’t apologize. You don’t deserve to feel this way…” she puts her hand on his knee, “I just want you to be happy,” she searches his hazel eyes for answers.

Mulder doesn’t know what to say. He turns his head and stares straight ahead at the TV again. His hand moves to Scully’s hand, which is still resting on his leg. After another infinite amount of time sitting in the dark silence, Scully shifts and removes her shoes and coat. 

“I’m not leaving,” she says to him as his eyes plead at her with a surprised look. 

“Scully, please –“ 

“Mulder, you know when you argue with me you always lose,” she raises her eyebrow at him, “so don’t even bother protesting.” 

She settles down on the couch next to Mulder again. He doesn’t want her to feel obligated to stay with him. He’s caused enough trouble in her life and he knows she would be better off without him. But she is bullheaded as they come so there’s no point in arguing because it’s true, she does always win. 

Sighing, Scully makes herself as comfortable as she can on his couch. Not wanting to cause her any more inconvenience, he throws open his left arm, welcoming her petite body to lean up against him. Mulder squeezes his arm around her as she’s settling up against him. He grabs the wool blanket from the floor and drapes it across their laps. He leans back a bit, giving her more space, but she just keeps moving in closer to him, cuddling up and wanting to protect him, save him from his demons. 

No more than a moment later, Scully is silently crying against Mulder’s chest; he feels her body shaking and his shirt collecting her hot tears. 

“Scully…” Mulder starts.

“No. Don’t Scully me,” she raises herself up from his warm body, hiccuping. She looks straight into his eyes with burning anger. Tears are still falling down her face; hot and angry tears. “Don’t you dare Scully me, Mulder. Why? I want to know why. Do you understand that there are people who love and care about you? Or are you so wrapped up in your own world that nobody else exists?” she raises her voice in anger, face burning red even in the darkness. 

She takes a few heavy breaths and sinks into the couch once more, “Am I not good enough?” voice barely at a whisper now, hands wringing in her lap. 

Mulder’s mind is alert now, seeing Scully in the state she’s in. He’s aware enough that it registers to him that his partner – friend…best friend – is crying on his couch, asking why she isn’t good enough for him. 

“Scully,” he takes both her hands into his. They’re cold and clammy, shaking slightly. “Your life turned to hell when I showed up. I took everything away from you and took you from the normal life you so badly wanted and deserve. A husband, being a doctor, having a family…” he tilts her head so she’s looking at him again. “I can’t live with myself knowing I took that all away from you. I can’t…” he starts tearing up again, “You deserve the world, Scully, and I’m only holding you back.” 

Scully searches Mulder’s eyes, engaged and holding on to every word coming out of his mouth. “I’m holding you back from being great,” he looks down at their tangled hands. 

“Mulder, I am great. And I am great because of you,” she gives his hands a squeeze, “You turned a skeptic into a believer, you showed me that life can throw you curveballs, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take a swing,” she uses the only baseball analogy she can think of. 

“Scully,” Mulder averts his eyes to hers, “I can’t believe you just used a baseball analogy on me during such a serious conversation.” 

“I learned from the best,” she gives a shy smile, truly happy to see a bit of the real Mulder shining through this storm. Scully holds their hands up like a mirror, spreads their fingers apart, and closes them again. She fits her fingers between his and let their hands drop to their laps. She frees one of her hands, brings it up to the side of Mulder’s face and holds him there for a moment. He leans into her touch and kisses her palm lightly. She closes her eyes and weakly smiles. Mulder looks at her, taking this moment and engraining it in his memory. He loves her. He’s so stupid. But he loves her, even though it took him holding a gun to his head to finally come to terms with it. 

“Scully, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says, kissing her palm again, lips lingering softly. 

“Mulder,” she says, running her hand through his hair and letting it stay there, “I don’t know what I would do without you. You've saved me so many times and I don't know how I can ever thank you enough.” 

He wraps her in his arms, completely enveloping her small body. He places a kiss on the top of her head, and he feels her sigh heavily into his chest. They stay like this for a while, just holding onto each other. The physical contact with someone is helping keep him grounded. 

I don’t want to be on this couch anymore, Mulder thinks to himself. He shakes Scully a bit and a quiet “Hm?” escapes her closed mouth. She’s sleeping soundly. Mulder slides himself out from underneath her and lifts her in his arms. Her arms drape around his neck, stuck in between sleeping and being awake. 

He avoids squeaky floorboards as he walks Scully to his bedroom, careful not to hit her head on the doorway. He gently places her in his bed. Mulder sits on the edge next to her, brushing hair from her eyes. Watching her in one of her most vulnerable forms is enough to convince him “not today, not now.” 

Mulder places a gentle kiss on her cheek, and stands up to remove his white t-shirt. He’s wearing grey sweatpants which double as pajamas, not sure what to do about Scully. She was still in her work clothes, which he has heard countless times before that they’re so uncomfortable. Scully tells him nearly every day. 

He puts his hand on his head and scratches it, looking around his room for something else to put her in. Walking to his dresser, Mulder opens the third drawer and rifles through the contents, fishing out an old Knicks t-shirt. He’s had it for years, it’s been washed many times, and is now soft and his scent is worn into it from so many years of use. 

He walks over to where Scully is asleep and stares at her. He’s concerned that she’ll wake up and think he’s assaulting her. Taking his chances, he slings her arms around his neck and lifts her up slightly. He unzips her skirt first and tugs it down so he could untuck her blouse and unbutton all the buttons. Finally freeing her of her blouse, Mulder lays Scully back down so he can slip the shirt over her head. 

Eyes flying open, Scully is wide awake now.

“Mulder!!!!” she exclaims, covering herself up with her hands, then grabbing the blankets and bunching them around her half-naked body. 

“Scully oh god! I’m so sorry! I thought you would be uncomfortable sleeping in your work clothes so I was going to put one of my shirts on you. I didn’t look at anything I swear…” he bashfully trails off, embarrassed and wringing the shirt in his hands.

Not caring if he looked or not, Scully reaches over and grabs Mulder’s hand, pulling him down onto the bed facing her as she snakes her arms around him. She gently kisses the top of his head where his hair grows wild. She kisses his temple. She kisses his cheek. She kisses his jawline; his lips. Scully is grateful he doesn't pull away. She's grateful that this isn't awkward at all; if anything it feels as natural as breathing. 

Mulder’s shock slowly dissipated as her tongue parts their lips, begging to be let in. She loved his plump bottom lip, oftentimes catching herself gazing at his mouth wondering what it would be like to really kiss him. He lets her in without a fight, instantly finding a tempo for their dancing tongues like they’ve been doing this for years. Mulder’s hands are on either side of Scully’s head. Scully pulls Mulder in to deepen the kiss as his hands make their way to her waist. Scully scoots over in the bed to make more room for him to comfortably lay next to her. 

They break their kiss and stare at each other in the dim glow of the streetlamp, eyes searching one another’s. They’re both breathing heavily and Scully moves in closer to Mulder as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her up against his body. She’s suddenly very aware of his growing erection pressing into her lower belly. Goosebumps break out over her pale skin knowing that she’s doing this to him. Still, she chuckles. Scully kisses him again, even deeper this time and wraps her arms around him, grabbing at his back like a life vest. His skin feels smooth and soft, not what she thought it would be. The moment is so overwhelming for them both, heads dizzying; Scully breaks the kiss. 

Mulder stares at Scully’s big wet eyes; in the dark he can see her face flushed. She looks somewhat embarrassed. Realizing that she was drowning in Mulder, she looks at his hazel eyes and answers him silently, pleading for more, reaching out to run her hand through his damp hair, brushing the hair from his forehead. She brings her hand down and places it on his cheek as he melts into her, closing his eyes to break the intense feeling he was getting. 

Scully saw the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table earlier. She didn’t want this moment to be ruined by him being drunk and regretting it. Maybe the alcohol made him this depressed…The last thing she wanted, though, was for her to take advantage of him in such a vulnerable state. But when their eyes meet and the hunger in Mulder’s eyes devours hers, she knows that this is something they both want; need. 

Scully suddenly grabs his hand and places it on her breast, kneading his hand with hers over her bra. Mulder catches on and takes control as Scully twists her arm around to unclasp the fabric separating their burning skin. As soon as she frees herself, Mulder opens his eyes wide, looks at Scully who chuckles embarrassingly, and immediately latches himself onto her nipple. She throws her head back slightly and gasps in surprise, Mulder playing with her even more now realizing that she’s enjoying this as much as he is. Still facing Scully, Mulder starts grinding his hips slowly against her, letting her know that he wants this as much as she does. 

He lays Scully down flat on her back, hovering himself over her small frame. Scully looks at him, smiles, and pulls his head down to kiss her again. He kisses her jawline and her head leans back with pleasure, goosebumps breaking out on every part of her body. He slowly makes his way down to her neck, hearing her groaning in agreeance, he explores more. Suckling on her collarbones, he leaves a trail of fire as he heads down her torso. Her nipples are hard, and almost as if on cue, Mulder flicks the left one with his tongue, emitting a deeper, more guttural groan from Scully. 

Scully feels Mulder’s erection pressing into her belly even more now; and now she’s fully aware that her tights are still on and making this more uncomfortable than it should be. 

“One sec,” Scully lifts up her hips and quickly sheds the tights off her legs. “Okay. Proceed,” she brings his head down to hers once more and kisses him all over. She reaches down between their bodies and gently grazes Mulder’s cock. He hisses in response, nearly biting down on her neck to control himself. Liking the reaction she was getting from him, Scully grabbed him through his boxers and he instinctively starts grinding his hips into her hand. His flesh grows hotter with every move of her hand. 

Mulder looks at Scully with a questionable and dissatisfying look when he sees she’s reaching down to slide his pants and boxers off. He expertly slides them down and tosses them aside, taking a moment to look at Scully again. It’s dark, but he can see her; her pale skin glowing in the dull light leaking from the closed blinds. All that is separating them now is her simple, white cotton underwear. 

Mulder tucks a few strands of Scully’s fire red hair behind her ear, he kisses her full on the mouth, and then shoves his hand underneath the elastic band of her underwear. He’s immediately greeted with damp curls; she’s so wet for him and he’s utter in shock. Scully starts panting heavily, knowing he’s so close to her screaming center. She takes matters into her own hands, literally, and guides his hand to where it needs to be. She knows herself rather well and uses his hand to touch her where she wants to – needs to – be touched. 

Mulder shakes his head when Scully starts maneuvering her hand around his; he wants to take the time to explore her. He doesn’t want this to be a quick thing. Scully removes her hand and snakes it back to his messy hair, pulling his mouth even closer as their tongues give and take once again. 

His fingers part her lips and immediately find her clit, giving it a quick rub before running his fingers along her and using her wetness to his advantage. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this to her, causing her body to react this way. Her back arches up and her hips grind into his hand, urging him to continue as he finds his rhythm. He teases his middle finger at her opening and she grinds forward, his finger slipping into her. He starts to flick her, rub her, play with her, tease her. Everything he did resulted in her making various noises, beautiful sounds of pleasure chorusing through his ears. 

Scully quickens the pace, setting the tone with her grinding into his hand as his palm meets the exact spot it needs to, starving for more. He notices her urgency and plunges a second finger into her. She groans into the side of his neck, creating a patch of fire searing through Mulder and sending bolts of energy to his throbbing cock. Wanting to please Mulder, Scully reaches down, grabs him, and starts to stroke him up and down while he works his fingers on her. Their lips never break away from one another. 

Mulder’s breathing grows erratic with Scully’s quickening pace, pumping him and grabbing him and pushing him closer to the edge. 

“Mulder, I’m…close…” she barely gets the words out, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back, exposing her neck beading with sweat. 

He kisses the side of her neck, feeling her fast heartbeat through her veins. His fingers immediately vacate her body. Her eyes fly open and she looks up at him with pleading eyes, and he brings their lips together once more, fighting and giving. Scully grabs his cock again and pumps more, Mulder rocking with her every move. 

“Mulder…I need…to….” She can’t finish her sentence. 

Mulder barely registers what she’s demanding and takes the base of his cock, slides past her folds, and enters her tight center. They both gasp as he moves slowly, giving her a moment for her body to adjust to him. Scully nods at him, lifts her hips up and looks into Mulder’s eyes, burning with passion. 

Scully feels Mulder’s full length fill her to the core as he plunges in and out of her with ease; they almost fit perfectly together. Scully wraps her arms around his back, lifting her hips and wrapping her legs around him, letting him in even deeper. She rakes her nails across his back and Mulder starts moving faster and faster. Their breathing quickens, groans and grunts echo the room; their moving bodies being the only other sound. They were never really good with using their words. Mulder reaches his hand down between their writhing bodies and starts pushing Scully’s buttons, trying to get her taken care of since he didn’t think he would last much longer. 

“Mmm fffffuck…I’m so…close,” Mulder says through gritted teach and closed eyes, pumping , touching, caressing her in all the right places. 

“M-M-Muld –“ she starts to feel it build deep within her. Her walls tighten around him and she throws her head back groaning his name, desperately grasping the rumpled sheets in her hands. Shoving his face into her neck, Mulder lets out an inaudible guttural groan and lets himself go, pumping himself quickly in her, milking the orgasm for all it’s worth. He slows his pace to a soft rocking as they ride out the rest their orgasms together. They kiss one another deeply as they collapse into a tangle of limbs; she still feels him slowly throbbing inside of her. 

Mulder rolls himself onto his side, pulling Scully with him while keeping himself inside her, not wanting to ever leave this moment suspended in time. She looks at him, breathing heavily, and he looks into her big blue eyes and sees a new desire. 

“Mulder…” she gasps, still trying to catch her breath. 

“Scully…” he whispers heavily, burying his face into her neck.

Scully pulls Mulder into a hug and he starts crying. She holds him as her hand is a comfort on his back, slowly rubbing circles. He clutches her in his arms as he sobs quietly, shaking ever so slightly. They stay like that for a while, just holding each other. His crying slows, feeling guilty for what he was about to do today; that he was going to leave Scully behind. Mulder lifts his head up to say something to Scully, anything at this point, and he sees that she has fallen asleep, breathing back to slow and steady. Mulder loosens himself from her tight grip and moves her so she’s laying down. He fixes the pillows and slides into bed behind her. He wraps his arms around her soft and smooth torso; she settles and sighs in contentment. 

“My reason for being alive has been in front of me this whole time,” he whispers, placing a light kiss on the top of her head, “I was just too stupid to realize it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first finished fic. I'm open to criticism, so if you see anything I can improve on, please let me know :)  
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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